


All Aboard the Nacho Ship

by robogreaser



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Fluff, M/M, Reconciliation, Revenge, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robogreaser/pseuds/robogreaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A variety of Rufioh/Horuss Ficlets. Some sad, some fluffy, some other ones...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reflections

His sigh was weak and strained. He wanted to cry. He couldn’t. Not with a smile plastered on his face. He had to keep it up. It was all he had left.

Horuss stared out over the dream bubble, the memory of the trees and the time before the game flooding his thoughts. This was what he wanted eternity to look like. This is what eternity should’ve been. This was when they were happy, albeit in secret, but happy nonetheless.

“We need to talk…”

On and off for eons. It should’ve been steady, but that crazy bitch—

“We should… uh… see other people,”

Rufioh couldn’t commit to him. He wouldn’t. He refused. Horuss’s smile strained.

He bit his lip, his face flushing deeper blue. He walked away, snapping tree branches in frustration as he went. It hurt to think about it. He didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want that burden. The hurt was there, but it’d be numbed if he didn’t think about it.

Horuss cringed, thinking of how many times he had to feign deafness, or would ramble on about horses to avoid listening. He tried his hardest to preserve what he had. The only thing he had left; the only thing keeping everything okay. Or as okay as anything in the afterlife could be. It was all he had. No one else treated Horruss the way Rufioh did. Everyone else avoided him.

He ground his teeth, his smile straining.

How could he do this? What was so important to Rufioh as to hurt him like this?

“We’ve had some good times,”

Damn right! He had saved Rufioh more than once. He kissed him back to life. What more could a guy want? He gave him that rocking horse bod too. It was amazing. He thought Rufioh would love it.

Then again, he also thought Rufioh loved him.

Horuss sat down, the memory of the trees fading into his workshop. It was dark. He didn’t care though, he didn’t want to be seen. He needed the darkness. He threw his goggles to the side, hitting the wall with a thud. He undid his ponytail.

What good was it being a hoof-beast on the inside if he didn’t have anyone who understood him on the outside?

His smile strained. What good was it to smile if he had nothing to smile for? Moirallegiance be damned, Meulin didn’t offer him anything near what Rufioh gave him.What good was any of it?

There was nothing left for him. There was nothing left. Nothing.

He frowned.


	2. Reinvention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horuss takes a moment to recall the events leading up to his breakup with Rufioh. He tries to re-evaluate his moirallegiance as well.

“We should, uh— see other people,”

It stuck inside his head, and his chest, and continued to rattle him. The tears streaked down his face, going, going, gone off his chin and onto the table. His voice stuck in his throat, the cry muffled and strained.

He was muffled and strained. Keep smiling.

This wasn’t right. He’d be damned if some filthy little lowblood like Rufioh would break his heart. He’d be damned if he’d spend eons giving his all to such a feckless little bastard. No more smiles.

Horuss sat up, staring at the memory of his workshop, a shudder running up his spine and across his shoulders. The fragments, or more precisely the fragments of fragments, of his magnum opus stared him down. Metallic glints in the low light of his workspace haunted him. A leg here, a rudimentary muscle there, a body to save his—

Bastard.

Horuss swept everything off his workspace with a swing of his arm. No more. No more building and creating and improving anything for anyone. No. Why the hell should he keep going if no one else would. They were all dead. They were all—

Dead.

There were few, if any, consequences now. And to be frank, who the hell cared what any of these nutjobs thought of him. It’s not like he needed to impress anyone. It’s not like they didn’t already think he was a loon.

***

It had been approximately two sweeps since he met his post-scratch counterparts.

Equius wasn’t too bad. A little grim, perhaps, but at that point so was Horuss. Maybe it was a Zahhak thing. But that 6 sweep old troll had something Horuss didn’t: Nepeta.

The meet and greet was short lived and awkward to say the least; a bunch of dead trolls and their ancestors—dancestors—meeting for the first time. There were all these lofty expectations. Meulin hadn’t been all that personable to Horuss before then, preferring to spend most of her time with that space-cadet Kurloz. But seeing Nepeta and Equius, the perfect moirallegiance, literally perfect, they could help but take pause.

It defied the hemospectrum. It defied everything Horuss expected. The rest of the encounter was a blur now.

“What about you and Nitram though,” Meulin said, perhaps a little too loudly for his liking. He took off his goggles and poked his ear, making sure it was still working properly.

“What about Rufioh?” Horuss scowled.

“He’s a lot lower on the hemospectrum than me and you two are quite the pairing,”

“And how’d you come across that information?” Horuss barked.

“Oh come on Horuss, it’s been eons. The only one of us that’d still be in the dark is Meenah and that’s cause she locked herself up in her big, fancy moon-castle,” Meulin punched his shoulder, a smile plastered on her face. Horuss bit his lip, trying his hardest not to let the pain show. She was strong.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t supposed to get out,”

“Why not?” Meulin cocked her head. “Are you two happy? Don’t you like each other? Is everything alright?” she asked as Horuss fumbled with his words. “If you’re happy why do you care what everyone else thinks?”

“Because!” Horuss shouted, embarrassed that he’d be talking about his quadrants with an olive-blooded shipping fanatic. “Because it isn’t proper! Something of this caliber is meant to happen outside public view. Actually, something like this isn’t supposed to happen at all!”

***

Horuss slammed his head into the table. The tears were sadness and rage leaking from a deeper part of him. They were coming out of the nothingness swelling up inside his chest.

Meulin had wrangled him into this mess with all her well-intentioned advice.

Smile she said. Smile.

Why? He didn’t want to. Why smile when all it did was cause such a powerful pain? Why smile when he had no reason to. Not anymore at least.

Horuss scowled as he cleaned his goggles. They were slick from—sweat. “Why am I so damn gross,” he grimaced as he threw the rag across the room and pushed his goggles away. He pushed the bit of hair off his face. “Reason one I’m no good: I’m a sweaty loser.”

Horuss slammed his head on the table.

***

Meulin and Horuss had spent three hours together after meeting their dancestors, wandering around all the dreambubble. They stopped at the memory of his workshop and waited for a second in silence, contemplating what they should do next.

“Are you at least going to try and take my advice?” Meulin asked.

“I’ll think about it,” Horuss said, his indifference putting a frown on Meulin’s face. “What?”

“You’ll think about it?” she threw her arms up. “Horuss I’m trying to help you. I’m the quadrant doctor and you just got three free hours of service and all you’ll do is think about it?” she folded her arms and looked to the ground, shuffling her feet, waiting for a response.

“That’s what this was all about?” Horuss asked.

“Well—” Meulin rocked on her feet. “No.”

“Well then what was all this about?”

“Can you just keep a secret for me?” she asked and Horuss nodded. “I’m—oh Jegus how do I say this—I need— I want a little pale love right now,” she blushed and Horuss stumbled back.

“Wait. You’re saying you just spent all this time with me for—”

“I know!” she cried out. “I know it was stupid but after seeing our dancestors living the pale quadrant dream I just thought—” she paused and looked up at Horuss, her face sullen. “Kurloz was a great flushed partner Horuss, and I miss the old him but he’s just weird sometimes and he’s not very good at moirallegiances and sometimes I forget what I’m doing when I’m with him and there’s these times I blackout with him and it scares me but I still like him but it’s just not working out and some days I want to call it off but then he’ll be extra amazing and—”

Horuss stared at her wide-eyed as she rambled on and on about her failing quadrants. He was less shocked by her outburst and more so by the pity he felt growing inside him.

He stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, effectively silencing her.

***

Taking her advice was the dumbest thing he’d ever done. Quadrant doctor indeed! That crap advice ruined his relationship.

It ruined him!

Horuss stood in front of the cracked mirror, a pair of scissors poised in one hand, a large lock of his hair in another. The old him was done. No more fake smiles and complacency. No more idle hands while the others meddled with everything and anything they wanted to.

Rufioh would regret the heartache he sowed. Damara would pay for meddling.

Old Horuss would die for not seeing this coming. Old Horuss would die for letting this happen.

*snip snip*


	3. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horuss is done crying. But vengence is only good for so much.

It had been three hours.

Three hours of reflection and contemplation and unimaginable heartache. Horuss had to relent. He had to give in. Rufioh had finally done it. They were over.

Horuss had spent the span of three hours locked up in the memories of his hive, his workshop and the other places in the dark where he could fall to pieces in peace. But Horuss was stronger than that.

They were _not_ done. Horuss wouldn’t let that good for nothing faerie slip away so easily even if it meant breaking a heart and making spades out of the pieces. He grabbed the riding crop he used to taunt Rufioh with.

He grinned, remembering the fun. He’d push Rufioh against his recuperacoon and trace the tip of the fiberglass rod up and down his spine, jabbing it into the small of his back until those bronze wings would convulse.

Now it had a different job.

Horuss pushed the strands of hair out of his face and moped up the last bit of sweat on his brow. There was no need to be nervous anymore. The bastard had it coming.

Horuss left the memory of his hive and paraded through the shifting dreambubble, the landscape rotating through the places on Beforus he missed the most. Trees loomed ahead. Horuss grumbled something about his distaste for tree-hives.

He scaled the ladder, riding crop between his teeth.

“Oh,” Horuss said as he cocked his head. Two voices were in the hive, talking loud enough for him to hear. One was East Beforian rubbish. He couldn’t believe that garbled mess of an accent still stuck even after several dozen millennia. “Dumb bitch—”

“It was just so repetitive Dam; over and over again, on and off, makeup and break up. It’s like he couldn’t take a hint the first hundred times that it just wasn’t working.” Rufioh stopped and the gibberish flowed from Damara’s mouth. “Spice it up? Yeah doll, of course we should’ve spiced it up. He wanted such strange things and only in his way and—”

Horuss kicked the door in. Damara reclined in a chair, leaning toward Rufioh with a smirk, her legs splayed in a rather crude manner.

“You want to spice things up?!” Horuss charged forward.

“Wha—” Rufioh jumped but Horuss had pinned him to the wall. Their faces were mere inches apart, Horuss’ breath, hot with fury, overtaking his senses. Rufioh stared, his white eyes going wide as Horuss stepped back and raised the riding crop up.

“You’re a good-for-nothing bastard!” Horuss shouted. He swung. The riding crop struck Rufioh in the clavicle. Stinging ran through his flesh and contorted his face in pain. Horuss repeated his gesture, going faster and faster, his anger growing as heartache was pushed further and further down.

“Horuss!” Rufioh put his hands up, trying to protect his face as Horuss assailed him. “Horuss _stop!_ ” The pain was bringing tears to Rufioh’s eyes. Horuss didn’t care.

He chucked the riding crop to the side before grabbing Rufioh’s throat, his nails digging into the grey flesh below the jawline. Horuss pulled the troll up. He spun Rufioh away from the wall, momentum building as he slammed Rufioh into the floor. Rufioh’s head clunked against the floorboards and he started kicking, the shock fading and his pain still growing.

“You’re a filthy little mudblood!” Horuss screamed in Rufioh’s face. “And I’ll be damned if you _ever_ make me feel like this again!” Horuss spit in his ex-lover’s eye. He leaned forward, his heaving breathing making Rufioh squirm even more.

It was no use. Horuss was stronger than anyone he’d ever dealt with. Horuss was the only person, even after that damn game killed them all, to be strong enough to pin him on the floor and keep him there. He didn’t care, he still kicked.

Rufioh’s wings were twitching.

Horuss grabbed Rufioh’s jaw with one hand, the other pressing painfully against his chest. Horuss grinned. He had him where he wanted him. He bent down closer for a kiss. Rufioh’s kicking subsided but then teeth came into play.

Horuss bit him. Hard.

The kicking resumed and Rufioh began thrashing, the pain engulfing his face as Horuss’s nails scratched his jaw. Blood stained the inside of his mouth. Rufioh was on the edge. This wasn’t going to stop. Not unless—

Rufioh inhaled, the Breath and its power filling him. Horuss stopped his biting as the air left his lungs.

The room was swirling madness as the wind started, Rufioh’s blood-stained face morphing into a horrid scowl.

“Spicy,” Damara said with a squeak.

The room was a wreck. Papers flew about and windows shattered as Rufioh’s Breath morphed into a hurricane. Rufioh was in control.

Damara held onto her chair with a smile plastered on rust-flushed cheeks. This was far too exciting, even for her and her tainted sensibilities. Horuss was whipped against the wall, his head hitting the wood and his hair splayed everywhere. Rufioh came down on him, his wings still twitching.

Perfect. This was perfect.

Rufioh glowed as his god tier powers heightened, his scarf adorned outfit appearing with a flash of light. His wings fluttered and he rose up, glaring down at the muscly, manipulative, fucker.

Horuss fought against the gale. Or, at least he tried to. As strong as he was, there was no stopping a God.

Rufioh chuckled and wiped away the blood streaming down his chin. He didn’t know where his anger was coming from. But he liked it.

“How’s this for spicing it up?” Rufioh said, choking through the pain lingering in his bruised throat. Horuss had done a number on him. “Huh?” Rufioh’s winds increased and Horuss found it difficult to breathe. His hair was in his eyes. His goggles had flown off and smashed against the wall. There was nowhere to go and an injured troll was on a rampage.

Horuss didn’t care. He was still pissed off.

He took one step forward, the effort to fight the wind consuming him. Rufioh swooped down and grabbed him by the collar. He lifted the bluebood ex-boyfriend of his up off the floor and pulled him close. There was another kiss, even more biting, and as Horuss pulled away his blood smeared over Rufioh’s face.

Horuss scowled and powered through the stinging pain running up his face. “You bastard,” Horuss said, his voice turned into a hiss. Rufioh smirked.

“Damn right I am, _doll_ ,” Rufioh seized Horuss’s body with his winds and swept him up to the ceiling. He smashed him down into the floor. Horuss screamed as his muscles and bones and—everything— pressed together and seized up in pain. Rufioh’s winds lifted him up again and—

Horuss was smashed into the floor three more times. Rufioh was in a rage. It was satisfying watching Horuss convulse in pain. It was satisfying being in control.

“Now you know what it’s like you stupid prick!” Rufioh roared.

Horuss whimpered. He tried to reach up, looking for something to latch onto so he could get to his feet, but Rufioh’s winds slammed him into the floor again. Horuss turned his head, biting back the pain as his muscles cried out in pain.

Damara still sat in her chair, her cartoonish grin and wide, white eyes spelling out glee in big neon letters. Horuss grunted, trying to push himself up. But Rufioh dropped onto his back. There was a knee grinding into his spine and a set of fingernails circling his neck. Then the cyan scarf arrived.

Rufioh brought it up against Horuss’ throat. The rough fabric clung to his grimy skin and the folds pinched his skin just enough to make him cry out.

“Stop,”

“Why?” Rufioh asked. “You started this! You put me through hell. Do you _know_ what kind of hell you are Horuss? You made me a _horse_ you sick bastard. That’s fucked up, _doll_. You and your fetishes are _fucked up!_ You trapped me in this sick one-sided relationship!” Rufioh’s winds slammed down on Horuss again. The pain doubled, tripled, as everything compressed into the floor.

“Stop,” Horuss cried. “Ru—”

“No.”

Rufioh’s scarf looped around Horuss’ neck again.

It went tight. Tighter.

Horuss was running out of air. There were blue-tinted tears streaming down his face, mingling with the blood on his lip. Rufioh grinned.

This was control.

Damara finally made her move. She stood up and fought against Rufioh’s winds as she approached the battleground in the middle of the hive. Rufioh saw her approach and the winds calmed. Horuss was turning blue. Very blue considering he was a blueblood.

She was still smiling. Her face contorted as the smile evolved into a devilish grin, smearing from one side of her face to another. Horuss still fought for air, straining to push Rufioh off of him. Damara squatted in front of the struggling troll, cocking her head as she watched him strain against Rufioh’s grip.

“Don’t. Take. My. Man,” she squealed with delight as she reared back and kicked Horuss. Her heel smashed into his nose.

Rufioh jumped back. This was unacceptable. He relinquished his strangle on Horuss.

“No!” he yelled at Damara as Horuss coughed and recoiled into a fetal position. “NO! Dam, this ain’t your fight. Get out!” he shouted, his rage for Horuss spilling over on Damara. She backed up to the door and waited with a demure, pleading look. “Out!”

She scurried out, slamming the door, afraid of what an enraged god-tier Rufioh would do. She may have been a crazy bitch, but that innocent girl was still buried somewhere in all that rust blood. And that innocent girl was not about to risk her afterlife for some cheap thrills at Horuss’ expense.

Rufioh returned to the matter at hand.

Horuss was curled up on his side, gasping for breath as tears streamed down his blood-splotched face. He was shaking, a combination of the strangulation and the pain coursing through his body. Rufioh stepped over him and squatted down, straddling his body as he forced Horuss onto his back.

“You will repeat after me,” Rufioh ordered as he took ahold of Horuss throat with both hands. “I am not a God,”

“Bite me,” Horuss spluttered. Rufioh shook his head in disappointment. He glared at his ex and tightened his grip. Horuss kicked a little but Rufioh’s grip got tighter and his Breath siphoned the air out of Horuss. The blueblood was turning bluer again. Rufioh let go.

“Repeat after me,” Rufioh grinned. “I am not a God,”

“I am not a God,” Horuss cried.

“I am not a horse,”

“I am not a horse,” Horuss choked, crying again.

“I am not worthy of a matesprit like Rufioh,”

“I’m not worthy of a matesprit like Rufioh,” Horuss stared at him, the tears still flowing.

“I am nothing,” Rufioh said with a smile.

“I know—” Horuss spluttered as Rufioh’s Breath sucked the air out of his chest again. Horuss shut his eyes tight as the pain engulfed him, his mind going numb, senses dulling.

“Repeat after me,” Rufioh yelled as he let Horuss breath. “I am nothing,”

“I am nothing,” Horuss cried out, louder now, the pain on his voice evident.

It hit Rufioh like a brick. Horuss was crying, and not soft, pain-induced crying from the fight. No. Rufioh had really hurt him. Rufioh dropped down on top of Horuss, his legs to each side of his chest. He leaned forward.

His face hovered above Horuss’. The blueblood still cried but Rufioh didn’t care. His hands wandered.

Rufioh took a chunk of Horuss’ hair in one hand and grabbed the troll’s pants with the other. Horuss’ crying quieted as Rufioh undid the belt, and then the button, and then the zipper, all while staring him down and yanking on his hair. Rufioh slid down Horus’s body, leaving his hair and his crying to their own devices as he finished removing his main obstacle: pants.

Horuss couldn’t get up. It hurt too much. Instead, he clawed at the floorboard as Rufioh’s hands slid up and down his thighs, the light tough sending goosebumps up his body. Rufioh’s fingernails traced small circles on his grey skin, taunting him until Rufioh pulled at the waistband to his underwear.

Rufioh worked quicker. Horuss was naked from the waist down, but Rufioh frowned. It wasn’t good enough. He jump back up onto Horuss’ chest and ripped open his jacket, a few buttons popping off and bouncing across the room. Rufioh leaned in and dragged his teeth and tongue up the grey torso. Horuss shook.

“Rufioh—” Horuss whimpered.

“Don’t speak!” Rufioh yelled, his gruff voice startling Horuss as a hand struck Horuss’ face.

“Rufioh—” Horuss couldn’t finish, Rufioh’s winds sucked the breath out of him and he spluttered and choked. When it stopped several seconds later he found it best to stay silent.

Rufioh’s right hand was still tracing delicate circles around Horuss’ bulge, the tickle coaxing it out of hiding. The mudblood’s teeth dragged down Horuss’ abdomen, leaving a clear set of scratches and saliva in their wake. Horuss couldn’t lift his head, it hurt far too much, but he knew he’d like what he would’ve seen.

Rufioh pulled up and with a flash of his god-tier powers his outfit disappeared. He sat back on Horuss’ thighs, the monstrous blue member directly in front of him. The writhing tentacle begged for more attention as the rest of his body whimpered in pain.

Rufioh’s mud-colored bulge wriggled out and wrapped around its counterpart. The heat of their bodies, the slight bit of slime, the barbs at the tip of Horuss’—

Rufioh leaned back on the palms of his hands as their bodies went to work. Horuss could barely move, but waves of pleasure, complimenting the surging pain, washed over his body. Rufioh’s wings were convulsing, flapping wildly as the grin on his face widened, his mouth opening, his breathing going erratic.

Horuss struggled, but he brought his hands up to the scene of the action and he stroked his fingertips up to coiled tentacles. They convulsed and Rufioh’s whole body shook.

“Why’d you give this up?” Horuss asked before Rufioh snapped up and glared at him.

“Don’t talk!”

Horuss bit his lip as the pleasure surged through them again. Horuss traced up and down the mass of blue and brown again, his only proactive approach to the situation. He pressed his eyes shut and tried to imagine when their sex wasn’t so black, but rather flushed red.

When Rufioh would slide up against him during a particularly bad thunderstorm and kiss him up and down his neck, paying extra attention to his collarbone. When the lightning would flash and he’d slip out of his shirt and wrap his body around Horuss, the troll anime’s playing in the background as their bulges would begin to play of their own accord.

Horuss would rub those extra-long horns as Rufioh whispered sweet-nothings in his ear. The momentum would increase slowly, Rufioh’s wings would flutter and then twitch, then convulse as their bodies neared the edge. Then Rufioh would slip away from Horuss face and begin the long, kiss-filled journey down Horuss’ chest, across his abs and to the groin where he’d—

Horuss snapped out of his futile daydream as Rufioh groaned and fell back. As usual he’d finished first. Horuss’ pains were masked by enough pleasure that he forced himself up. Rufioh lay on the floor between his legs, his body twitching as his bulge unwrapped itself from Horuss’. Horuss slid out from underneath Rufioh, the faerie troll completely unaware of reality as his bulge leaked and wriggled between his thighs as pleasure shot up and down his body.

Horuss bit through the pains in his body and managed to position himself over a dazed and smiling Rufioh. Horuss pushed the lowbloods legs apart and knelt down between them. His bulge was still writhing, aching for some closure, some more lust to wipe away the pains. It snaked its way to Rufioh’s body, slithering up to his nook, and jammed itself inward.

Rufioh moaned. Then he screamed.

Horuss wasn’t only just the strongest member in the troupe of trolls; he was also the most well-endowed. Whereas a troll could normally retract their bulge inward without a problem, Horuss always had at least an inch of his monster peeking out. His bulge went to town thrashing inside of Rufioh, the set of barbs teasing and exciting the lowblood, his wings beating against the floor. But the girth, that was a problem.

Horuss farced himself forward, his bulge pushing further in, stretching Rufioh out in a way they tried to avoid at another, more thoughtful and tender point in their relationship. The cobalt-colored bulge began its assault in earnest, snaking inside Rufioh, hitting the two or three spots that sent Rufioh into a craze, his groans echoing louder and louder in the room.

The warmth and heat eased away some of Horuss’ pain, the slick frictionless motion of his body and his bulge distracting him from the aches. Horuss dropped on top of Rufioh, pressing him into the floor. Their body heat mingled, rising as Horuss closed in on climax. Rufioh’s arms circled Horuss’ wide body, his nails clawing at his shoulder blades. Horuss’ hair fell to the side. He took his hands and cupped his ex’s face as he let loose inside of his body.

Rufioh’s moans quieted as Horuss’ bulge retracted slowly, teasing the lowblood just a little as it left. Horuss lay down on Rufioh, his hands still caressing Rufioh’s face.

“Please listen,” Horuss whispered, his ragged, pain filled voice right in Rufioh’s ear. “Listen to me Rufioh. I’m so—I’m still—I’m—Rufioh, I—”

“I'm sorry too,” Rufioh finished for him, stealing a kiss as he pushed his lover’s hair out of their eyes. Their pains remained. They stayed on the floor, recovering as time dragged onward.

“I don’t want a Kismesissitude with you Rufioh,”

“I don’t want that either,” Rufioh said. “But—”

“We can’t go back can we?” Horuss asked, the hurt coming back into his voice.

“Not the way we were, no.” Rufioh said and rubbed his forhead, trying to induce a coherent thought. “We’ve got to do this differently man. We can’t go back.”

“Oh,” Horuss perked up. “I know. I was an ass. I mean, I fixed that problem with my ear valves centuries ago,”

“I figured. You’re too smart to not figure something like that out,”

“Oh, thanks,” Horuss said, surprised Rufioh would think anything about him was smart. Not after today. “Rufioh, babe, I’m sorry I dragged you through hell. I’m sorry I—”

“No.” Rufioh put his hand over Horuss’ mouth. “I didn’t say anything loud enough. I didn’t try hard enough to make you realize I was unhappy. I’m not confident enough to walk up to you and smack some sense into you,”

“That’s not true. Not after today,”

“Yeah—”

“I consider it back payments for eons of my garbage,” Horuss chuckled. “I’ll cool it with the hoofbeast stuff and the sweating and the politeness and the—”

“Hey, don’t think you have to change everything about yourself because of me,” Rufioh said.

“You make me happy Rufioh. You’ve made me happy for eternity,” Horuss smiled. “Now it’s my turn to return the favor. Please, let’s try and work things out. We don’t have to abandon everything. We’ve got to try.”

“Agreed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (copied from my tumblr)
> 
> Okay so… I’m going to hell. Seriously. I wrote this over Thanksgiving week while at my grandparents. I wrote this under one of my grandmother’s creepy pictures of Jesus. Forgive me father, for I have sinned.
> 
> ANYWAY…
> 
> There’s a whole lot of head canon thrown in here, primarily:
> 
> Rufioh is horrible at communication.  
>  Horuss would snap after the breakup.  
>  Rufioh’s wings involuntary twitch when he’s aroused.  
>  Although these two had a rough relationship, a Kismesissitude between them would be even more half-assed and disastrous.  
>  Rufioh would be a badass God-tier.  
>  Damara resents Horuss and vice-versa.  
>  Rufioh is tall and slim, Horuss is a little shorter and bulkier.  
>  Heroes of Breath like auto-erotic asphyxiation.
> 
> I’m going to hell. I’m going to hell. Oh sweet Lord I’m going to hell.
> 
> ONTO THE FLUFF>>>>


	4. Nachos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get some fluff in here.

Flustered could not _begin_ to describe how Rufioh was handling the alchemiter. Horuss had always used it. Horuss had mastered it in a matter of days. Horuss dealt with it, upgraded it, perfected it. Always. Rufioh was lucky Horuss was his server player, otherwise he wouldn’t have survived. Gosh, he felt bad for Mituna. He could never figure anything out for him. Anything. But Rufioh swept the guilt away and returned to the matter at hand.

“Dang thing won’t work for—” Rufioh kicked at the bottom of the alchemiter but accomplished nothing except a throbbing toe.

He paced back and forth, shuffling the cards Horuss actually trusted him with. One was a pair of socks that Horuss loved. The other was for a dish Rufioh was rather fond of as a wriggler.

“I shouldn’t have told him I’d make dinner. He’s going to think I’m such an ass,” Rufioh muttered to himself. Ever since this game started he couldn’t help but feel like dead weight to his boyfriend. Horuss always kept things comfortable for him whenever he could. Rufioh wished he could return the favor.

“I shouldn’t make promises I can’t keep. Dang!” Rufioh made another swift kick at the alchemiter again but only ended up with another sore foot. Horuss would be back from his mini-quest, whatever-he-called-it thing any minute. He was punctual about those sort of things and Rufioh cringed.

He didn’t want to be dead weight. Horuss would be back soon.

“I’ll have to wing it,” Rufioh said, smirking at his own pun. He started smashing buttons and throwing things around, guessing he could somehow, by some miracle, manage to make something edible by the time—

***

Horuss returned to his hive just in time. It was a rather easy quest and the grist reward was reasonable. He couldn’t wait to recount the adventure to Rufioh. He was still disappointed Rufioh hadn’t wished to join him, but at least he was trying to learn how to alchemize in the meantime.

Horuss walked in and froze.

The place was an absolute mess. Rufioh still had not managed to figure the alchemiter out. Horuss pushed his goggles up and furrowed his brow. Some of the mess was—well—rather odd. Had Rufioh been experimenting with the art?

“Well that looks like fun—” Horuss said as he noticed a flash of cobalt in the corner, but just then Rufioh flew in with a massive smile plastered on.

“Horuss! Dude, look at what I made!” Rufioh landed mere inches in front of his boyfriend and shoved the little cardboard container in his face.

“What is this?” Horuss asked as the steam curled off the chips.

“I have no clue! But man, are they good. Try one babe!” Rufioh’s eyes lit up as he forced a chip, coated in some unknown, gooey substance, right into Horuss’ mouth.

“Gah!” Horuss spluttered but then it hit him. “Rufioh—” his face went slack, his eyes widened.

“Yeah?” Rufioh bent his knees and grinned and seemed ready to explode with giddy. He had made something. He’d finally accomplished something with the alchemiter. He wasn’t dead weight. “Do you like them?” he asked.

“Rufioh—” Horuss was staring at the walls littered with junk, a million thoughts running through his head.

“Yeah?” the anticipation was starting to make Rufioh bounce a little.

“These are fucking—” Horuss stopped looking for the right word. Rufioh stopped bouncing and started worrying again. “ _Bangarang!_ ”


	5. Upgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horuss attempts to surprise Rufioh with a robotic engineering feat

There were several clicks and hissing noises as Horuss welded. The project was nothing theoretically, but it was time consuming to the nth degree. But it was what Rufioh wanted and Horuss obliged without question.

It had been two days of hard work, and some unfortunate discoveries, but Horuss was almost done. He stood and swept the metal shavings off his work apron. He discarded his goggles and went to the other room of his hive where Rufioh waited; or, more precisely, where Rufioh’s head waited.

Horuss had sensed the change in his matesprit’s attitude over the past sweep or so, but never mentioned much. He knew, well, he _thought_ , if Rufioh wanted something, that he’d tell Horuss. It was never that easy. Not with a mumbling lowblood for a boyfriend.

“So?” his voice rang out as soon as Horuss stepped foot in the room. There was excitement on his tongue clear as day.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Horuss sighed, wiping away the work grime from his face.

“Oh,” Rufioh said, his anticipation dampening.

“You’re not going to be a hoofbeast anymore,”

“Bangarang!” Rufioh shouted. Horuss as he sat down at the table where his equipment hooked into Rufioh’s severed head. It was all that was keeping him alive. The wires and tubes and various glowing things that no one understood except for Horuss, trailed over the surface of the table. They draped down by Horuss’ feet and fed into a number of his machines. Rufioh didn’t understand how it worked, but at least he was off of the…

“But—” Horuss trailed off and Rufioh looked up at him. “I only had so much material to work with. We haven’t been out adventuring in a while and I was low on grist and—”

“What’s wrong?” Rufioh cut him off, a dead-serious tone in his throat.

“I had to make do with what I had available, and had to recycle some of the more intricate mechanisms. You’re not going to be _100 percent_ hoofbeast,” Horuss fiddled with his ponytail and glanced around the room, frightened that Rufioh wouldn’t be satisfied.

After few seconds of awkward silence Rufioh spoke up, “Just show it to me, doll,”

Horuss obliged, scooping up Rufioh’s head and gathering the bunch of the wires under his arm. A few steps later and Horuss fumbled for a light switch. Rufioh’s gasp was audible, and the machine regulating his breathing went into overdrive in the other room.

“Man, how is this supposed to work?” Rufioh asked.

“Well, my lusus seemed quite proficient maneuvering with a body like this. It’ll take some practice, no doubt, but I know you’ll be capable of mastering it in no time Rufioh.” Horuss looked down into his arms where he cradled his boyfriend’s head.

“Well—” Rufioh tried to avoid looking at Horrus, but it wasn’t so easy in his current state.

“Can you and at least try it out first?” Horuss said, his tone on the verge of begging.

“Sure, why the hell not? Hook me up, doll.”

***

It took another half an hour as Horuss jimmied the wires into place and transferred the vital systems over to Rufioh’s new chassis. There were little hiccups along the way, primarily Rufioh catching a bout of hiccups. But other than that it went as smooth as silk and Horuss began sealing up the centaur chest. Rufioh looked down, unable to move anything but his head until Horuss was done.

He was unsure, of course, but he still anticipated the change. Anything different from being fused to a hoofbeast was an improvement. _Anything_. At least he had arms now. He felt something odd as Horuss worked. Wait— He felt—?!

“Whoa man, what was that?” Rufioh asked as Horuss fiddled in his chest cavity.

“Oh,” Horuss looked up with a smile on his face. “I managed to improve your artificial nervous system, it’s much more acute now. More on par with your previous sense of touch I should say,”

“Oh man, Horuss how’d you know I couldn’t feel anything. How’d you fix it? I mean this is amazing. Dang this is—oh wow that feels weird. What’cha doing down there?” Rufioh glanced down as Horuss hurried to finish his work flipping switches and activating the last few components. Horuss backed up and swung the compartment door shut on Rufioh’s chest. As soon as the audible click hit their ears Rufioh felt an entire system flood his brain with sensation.

“That’s it!” Horuss said with a beam. “How’s it feel, babe?”

“Woah!” Rufioh took a few unbalanced steps but seized up. Worry flashed across his face. “Oh man what did I do? I can’t move! Horuss?” Rufioh glanced over to Horuss but the blueblood simply put a hand on Rufioh’s new metal shoulder.

“Calm down, it’s just calibrating. I know you didn’t say anything last time, but you had trouble getting used to your last chassis. You wouldn’t tell me outright if it was a problem so I took the incentive to aide you. Just give it a second Rufioh. I’m here just in case anything goes awry.” Rufioh calmed himself and after a few seconds the paralysis faded and he felt a whole new sense of control over his body.

“Woah!” he gasped as he swung his arms around and took a few sure-footed steps. Horuss couldn’t help but smile at Rufioh’s excitement. Quite suddenly, and without warning, Rufioh trotted up to Horuss and grabbed him, drawing him into a tight hug.

“Watch yourself Rufioh, you don’t want to strain anything too much or—”

“Thank you so much!” Rufioh said as he squeezed. Horuss returned the favor. It was their first hug in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Cause let’s be real here - Horsebot!Rufioh is fucking creepy as hell. And I honest to God believe Horuss had the best intentions and wasn’t just playing into some sick fetish.


	6. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufioh tries to share one of his favorite activities with his matesprit. It doesn't go quite as planned.

Horuss wouldn’t open his eyes. He refused. Then again, Rufioh didn’t know either way because of those goggles, but he didn’t care. At least they were spending some time together. And lugging his blueblooded butt out over his planet was good exercise.

“I don’t know what you’re afraid of babe. Flying is the shit,” Rufioh soared a little higher and Horuss clenched tighter.

“Yeah, maybe for a mutant like you!” Horuss yelled, his ears unaccustomed to the rushing winds. “I’m good with walking, desert or no desert.”

“Don’t be like that doll,” Rufioh sighed as Horuss’ nails dug deeper into his shirt.

They landed a little while later by an outcropping of rock. The sands whipped up in an unseen breeze and Rufioh cocooned the two of them with his wings to keep it out of their eyes. Horuss was coated in a cold sweat.

“You really don’t like flying, do you?”

“What was the first hint?” Horuss asked, the sarcasm leeching out slowly. Rufioh frowned and unfolded his wings as the winds died down. He started pacing out into the sands and Horuss watched him, the guilt hitting him like a brick. He didn’t want to make Rufioh feel bad. It was just the _height_.

“Hey!” Horuss called out as he ran after Rufioh, catching him by the wrist. “I just—why don’t we just go slower? Little wriggler steps. I don’t want you to feel bad Rufioh. I really don’t. I love when we spend time together. Like this. But, just a bit slower?” Horuss blushed as his confusion and worry started bubbling up again. Rufioh offered a softer smile.

“Sure,”

Horuss let Rufioh pick him up, cradling him close to his chest like a good matesprit would. Horuss took his goggles off at Rufioh’s request, just this once, and soon Rufioh’s wings were in a frenzy of motion.

“Wriggler steps Rufioh,” Horuss repeated as they took off. The ground began to drop away, even if only mere inches, and Horuss buried his face into Rufioh’s shoulder.

“Dude, chill out. Were only like a foot of the ground,”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Horuss pulled himself away and looked down. Rufioh just floated there, absentmindedly playing with Horuss’ hair while the big a tough blueblood turned to mush in his arms. “Maybe you could go a little lower?”

“Dude,” Rufioh stared at him. “We’re only a few inches of the ground,”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be,” Rufioh stroked his cheek and descended. “You don’t like flying, I get it,” Rufioh said as he landed. He put Horuss down, but wouldn’t let go.

“It’s not that Ru—” Horuss fumbled with his words, not wanting to upset Rufioh. “I just don’t like heights is all—” he mumbled. Rufioh pulled him into a hug to comfort him.

“It’s okay. I was the same way. I know what that feels like. It’ll take time. But hey, the more time I’ve got with you, the better.”


End file.
